


Truth or Derek

by DistantShores



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Body Shots, Dancing, Drinking, Drinking Games, Drunk Stiles, Kissing, M/M, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 02:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2091762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantShores/pseuds/DistantShores
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rousing game of truth or dare amongst the McCall pack leads to something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth or Derek

**Author's Note:**

> One shot that I don't even remember how I came up with but it was fun to write.
> 
> Thanks to [SnowJob](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowjob/) as always~ :)

“C’mon, Stiles!” Lydia presses him for an answer.

“Dare...No! Truth...No, wait! Dare! Dare,” Stiles finally decides after what feels like an eternity of waffling.

Lydia purses her lips as she arches an eyebrow mischievously at Stiles.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?!” he slurs, somewhat inebriated. He leans over to Scott sitting beside him on the couch, “Why’s she looking at me like that?”

“I dunno, dude,” he answers back.

Allison, Isaac, Lydia, Scott and Stiles sit in a small circle in Derek’s loft while Derek watches wearily just outside of their group, amused but not participating in their game. A mix of cocktails and wolfsbane drinks are flowing between the group as they cut loose. It was a nice change of pace from the usual supernatural this or paranormal that.

“I dare you…” Lydia starts as Stiles leans his body over his crossed legs in anticipation of the challenge ahead, “...to kiss…” she pauses again. “Scott. For ten seconds,” she declares holding up her fingers representing all ten seconds.

“WHAT,” he stumbles forward, eyes wide. He jerks his head at Scott who is defensively waving his hands. “He’s my bestfriend! It’d be like kissing my brother!”

“Or…” she pauses twisting her hair around her finger, “I can come up with a punishment dare…” she smirks.

Stiles sits back on the couch, hugging his legs, the thoughts running through his head spilling out of his mouth. “But it’s Scott. It’d be weird.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m a good kisser!” Scott elbows Stiles’ ribs.

“He is,” Allison reassures him. “Nice soft lips. _Perfect_ for kissing.”

“Did you hear that, Stiles?” Isaac teases. “He’s got _soft lips_ ,” he jokes making kissing noises.

“You’re not helping!” Stiles protests. “None of you are helping!”

“Could be worse. At least it’s someone you know,” Lydia taunts, swirling her red pinot in front of her eyes. “Time is running out…”

Stiles sighs as he drunkenly rolls his head over towards his alpha. “Whatdya think, Scott?”

“Well... A dare _is_ a dare…” Scott shrugs.

Stiles rolls his eyes throwing his hands up in the air in defeat. “Ugh, I can’t believe you’re supporting this. Derek? Help me out!”

“You’re on your own, Stiles. I’m not even playing,” Derek grunts, taking a sip from his beer, eying the situation from a safe distance.

“FINE. I hate you all. Scott, c’mere,” Stiles orders.

“Wow, right to it. Not even any sweet talk to get me in the mood?” Scott says with a straight face.

Stiles scrunches up his face and takes a deep breath. “Scott. Honey. Come over here and give your buddy Stiles a taste of your soft lips.”

Scott blinks a few times before bursting out laughing. “You’re _terrible_ at this.”

“SHUT UP. JUST SHUT UP AND KISS ME BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND,” Stiles demands angrily.

Stiles clamps his jaw shut tight and holds his breath as he pushes his closed mouth against Scott’s apparently irresistible lips. Stiles glares at Lydia and Allison out of the corner of his eyes as they laugh, hoot, and holler watching his face turn a darker shade of red as each second passes.

His eyes turn the other way to see Derek staring, gawking, mouth slightly agape, tongue wetting his lips. Derek isn’t staring at Stiles’ eyes. He’s watching Stiles jaw, his moles, his mouth, his lips. His eyes glance up and make contact with Stiles and he quickly averts them elsewhere in the room.

This kiss is only broken once Scott starts laughing hysterically. “Dude, you’re turning fuschia! BREATHE!”

“That was only eight seconds!” Lydia sings.

“Oh, come on!” Stiles protests. “That was awkward as fuck.”

“It looked awkward as fuck. You looked like the kid who licked a frozen metal pole and got stuck. The pole being Scott’s face, of course,” Isaac jokes.

“Well, one time on a ski trip… NO. S’not the point!” Stiles yells. “Is my dare over?”

“What do you think, Allison?” Lydia asks coyly.

“I think he can do better,” Allison grins back. “I know _we_ could do better.”

“Oh, Allison,” she teases, gently brushing Allison’s bangs out of her face. “You’re excused,” Lydia finally confesses, waving Stiles away with the back of her hand as she and Allison breakout into a gigglefit.

Stiles rolls his eyes before getting up off the couch. “Need another drink,” he grumbles, shuffling his way out of the circle. Stiles soon realizes he is much more drunk than he previously thought. He loses his footing tripping in front of Derek who easily catches him by his waist.

“Man down!” Scott yells out at him, raising his drink in a toast as the rest of the group cheers.

“You okay?” Derek asks with concern, his hands holding onto Stiles’ sides, steadying the boy.

“Fine. I’m fine. Just a lil’ drunk,” Stiles replies slowly getting back upright on his feet, nearly falling over again if it weren’t for Derek’s hands still firmly on him. “Okay, a lot drunk.”

“Maybe you should stop drinking?” he replies, finally releasing him, hands slowly sliding off of Stiles’ hips. Stiles notices how Derek’s hands graze his body and linger just a second too long but doesn’t think too much of it.

“I’ve earned it after that dare,” Stiles says as he wobbles his way over to the liquor, feeling Derek’s eyes following him with each step. “Besides, you have my keys so s’not like I’m goin’ anywhere.”

Stiles pours himself an ounce of Jack Daniels and quickly downs it, Derek watching the entire time.  He raises a bottle of Wolfsbane-laced liquor in Derek’s direction who responds back with a shake of his head, holding up his still mostly full beer. Stiles shrugs as he mixes himself a Jack and coke.

Derek peers over at the rest of the group to see Scott giving Isaac a lap dance while the girls hold Isaac’s arms behind his back. He furiously nods at Stiles, quickly changing his mind as he joins Stiles by the alcohol, pouring a separate shot for himself.

“Cheers!” Stiles salutes as he and Derek throw back their respective shots.

“Hey! What about us?” Scott yells out to them, mid-gyration.

“Hey,” Allison nudges Scott. “Not for me. I’m still driving us home.”

“What about us minus Allison!” Scott repeats loudly.

“You snooze, you lose, buddy!” Stiles winces as the alcohol burns the back of his throat. His answer is met with a round of boos and jeers from the drunken peanut gallery that is the pack in its current state. Stiles eventually relents and takes the whiskey, wolfsbane liquor, and shot glasses over to the circle followed by Derek who promptly takes Stiles’ seat. “Hey!” he cries out.

“Open seat,” Derek shrugs. “You snooze, you lose, buddy!” he grins.

Stiles glares angrily through drunken eyes before stomping over to the couch and wedging himself between Scott and Derek, his leg draped over Derek’s thigh. He sneers at Derek, claiming victory in the tightly enclosed space, barely able to take a sip of his own mixed drink without his elbow colliding with Derek’s arm. Stiles huffs at the cramped quarters, Derek not seeming to mind at all. Or he’s just too stubborn to admit otherwise. Stiles wiggles his hips from side-to-side, slowly creating a larger space for himself before Derek eventually shuffles over as Stiles falls down onto the couch cushions.

“Stiles!” Lydia snaps at him.

“WHAT?”

“It’s your turn to ask.”

Stiles squints as he slowly looks around the circle before noticing who he was now sitting beside. “Oh... OH!” he smiles menacingly. He looks over at Derek, nudging him with his foot as he now sat within the circle.

“Just because I’m sitting here now doesn’t mean I’m playing.”

“Ugh. You’re no fun,” he rolls his eyes.

“I’ll have you know I’m very fun.”

“HA!” Stiles bursts out laughing.

“Will you two stop flirting and play the damn game?” Lydia groans.

“What?!” Stiles flails pointing between him and Derek. “I wasn’t… We aren’t…!” Stiles looks at Derek apologetically. “We’re not flirting, right?”

Derek shrugs as he takes another sip of his drink. “Like Scott said, you’re terrible at this.”

“Screw all of you people!” he yells loudly before pointing an accusatory finger directly at Isaac. “Truth or dare?”

Isaac’s eyes go wide as he thinks. “D...dare?” he answers with hesitation.

Stiles grins from ear to ear and pours a shot of wolfsbane liquor, handing it to Isaac

“Uh…” Isaac hesitates looking at the shot.

“Your dare,” he saying looking at Isaac playfully. “...is to do a body shot off of someone _other_ than myself. But I’ll be nice. Your choice.”

Isaac sits there dumbfounded holding the full shot glass in his hand, eyeing it suspiciously. He looks at Allison first before an arm reaches out in front of her. He follows the arm up to find Scott glaring at him as he snarls defensively.

Isaac’s eyes linger on Scott for a few moments longer before Scott realizes he’s being considered and swallows nervously. Soon after, Allison reaches her arm over Scott’s shoulders pulling him in against her. “So dancing and drinks isn’t in the cards tonight?” Isaac nervously laughs as he realizes he’s running out of options.

Isaac looks at his fellow beta, Derek, who’s still absorbed in his beer. “Me?” he points to himself. “I’m still not playing.”

“So that leaves…”

Lydia looks up from her mostly empty wine glass, bewildered. “..what?” she asks, her eyes darting between the group.

She’s soon laid out on Derek’s coffee table, shirt rolled up exposing her midriff. “I’ll get you for this, Stiles,” she curses under her breath.

“What?! This is _my_ payback for having me kiss him!” he points aggressively at Scott.

"Huh? You always tell me I'm a good kisser!” Scott turns to Allison. “Am I really that bad?”

"No, you're not! Stiles is probably just too drunk to enjoy it," she reassures him.

“So why am I involved in this?” Isaac asks.

“Innocent bystander. Sorry, Isaac. It happens,” Stiles shrugs him off, smacking Derek's arm in the process.

"Hey!" Derek interjects.

"S’not my fault you take up so much space," Stiles mocks by puffing up his chest and flexing.

“Really?” Derek replies dryly, watching as Isaac awkwardly positions himself beside Lydia. “ _That’s_ your impression of me?”

“You really are impossible to impress,” he sulks back.

A smirk appears on the side of Derek’s face as he jabs a finger into Stiles’ ribs, still staring ahead.

“HEY!” Stiles jumps, nearly spilling his drink. “What was that for?!”

“Payback. For hitting me.”

“That was an accident!”

Derek huffs. “So was mine.”

Stiles furrows his brow and jostles his leg against Derek just as he takes a drink. “Accident,” Stiles sneers as a spill of beer runs down Derek’s chin, his eyes tracing it as it flows down his neck. Derek can feel Stiles’ eyes burning at him as he continues to ignore him. “Come on, Derek,” Stiles taunts with a sickening sweet tone to his voice, nudging their legs together again. He stares at Derek, waiting for any sort of reaction, focused on his face, but Derek remains stoic as ever.

Derek rolls his eyes concentrating on the action unfolding on the table a few feet in front of him, painstakingly ignoring Stiles’ taunts. He continues to prod Derek’s ribs in the same manner, intently watching his face for any reaction. He watches as Derek, fixated on...something, slides his tongue past his teeth, licking his lips, leaving them moist and shimmering in the light of the apartment. Stiles swears he hears a faint moan slip past Derek’s lips but it may just be the alcohol swimming through his blood. Stiles feels breathless as he wonders what would have happened if he had been dared to kiss Derek instead of Scott. His mind races as he becomes clouded with thoughts of Derek’s scruff rubbing across his lips.

A loud shriek followed by rousing laughter brings Stiles crashing back to reality as he sees Isaac rubbing a dribble of alcohol off of his chin. “All done,” he flashes a toothy grin.

“What?! No! I missed it!” Stiles whines.

“Not my problem,” Isaac boasts proudly as he sits back down.

“Someone get me a cloth. Please?” Lydia complains as she tries to wipe the sticky alcohol off of her abdomen without much luck.

“Here,” Allison calls out, tossing a wet cloth to Lydia.

“Thanks. This stuff is a mess,” she cries, trying to rub the sugary remnants of the shot off of her body.

“This is _your_ fault,” Stiles groans, shoving Derek.

“My fault? How is it _my_  fault that you missed it? Everyone else saw,” he shoves back, nearly knocking Stiles and his drink over. Derek reaches out and grabs the fabric of Stiles’ sleeve, pulling him back upright before he falls completely over.

“Thanksyou’reth’worst,” Stiles slurs together in one breath as his head drops back on the couch, rolling over onto Derek’s shoulder. “But you’re _so_ comfy,” he smiles wide as he nuzzles against Derek’s shoulder.

“Hey! Do you mind?” Derek growls as he attempts to shrug Stiles off his shoulder.

“Ugh stop! The room is spinning,” Stiles sways, holding the side of his head.

“Are you okay?” Derek asks with concern in his voice.

“Yeah, I’ll… I’ll be fine,” Stiles mutters, rolling his head back onto Derek’s shoulder. Stiles can feel his body relaxing as his head moves with the rise and fall of Derek’s body, heat emanating out from under Derek’s t-shirt, his heart beating softly.

“Stiles…” Derek sighs.

“Yessssss, Derek?”

“Stiles!” another voice calls out.

“Don’t fall asleep on my shoulder.”

“Stiles?”

“What?”

“Stop it, Derek!”

“Come on, Stiles.”

“Huh?”

“Derek.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Hey, Stiles!”

“What do you want?”

“STILES!”

“Truth or dare?”

“DEREK!” Stiles yells out as he jolts upright.

“Truth or…” Lydia starts.

“Derek?” Scott finishes.

“Truth or Derek?” Stiles repeats squinty harshly as his eyes refocus. “What are you guys talking about?” he rubs his bleary eyes.

“You missed a couple rounds and now it’s your turn. Lydia asked you truth or dare…” Isaac trails off...

“And you answered ‘Derek’” Lydia finishes.

“What? No I didn’t!” Stiles flails his limbs. The group is silent as they all make eye contact with Stiles as he looks around the group ending on Derek. “Did...did I?”

Derek nods silently.

“Oh man…”

“You’re cut off. You’ve had too much to drink,” Derek proclaims, snatching Stiles’ drink out of his hands and holding it high above his head.

“Aw, come on! It was a Freudian slip! I’m not _that_ drunk,” Stiles protests as he straddles across Derek’s thigh, reaching over top of Derek for his stolen beverage as Derek easily holds him back with his free hand pushed against Stiles’ chest.

Derek bites the inside of his lip as Stiles grinds against his thigh, struggling to reach his drink. “No, Stiles. You’ve had enough. Sit down,” Derek orders, gently pushing Stiles off of his leg.

Stiles lays back on to the couch, leaning against Scott behind him. Or so he thought as he falls down flat on his back with an audible thud.

“Hey, wait!” Stiles exclaims to Scott, Allison, Lydia, and Isaac as they gather their belongings. “What’s going on? Where are you guys going?!”

“Dude. You’re too drunk for us to keep playing. Plus this was the plan all along. Allison is driving us home,” Scott explains.

“But what about me?” he whines back. “There’s room in her car still!”

“Your Jeep is downstairs…” starts Scott.

“And I have your keys,” finishes Derek. “I’m holding on them until you’re sober. And right now, you’re too drunk to drive.”

“I’m aware of that,” Stiles groans, arm draped over his eyes. “Fine! Jeep stays, I stay!”

“Make yourself comfortable,” Derek instructs as he follows the rest of the pack to the door saying their farewells, locking up behind them.

Derek makes his way over to the kitchen sink, still holding Stiles’ drink in his hands.

“Are you just going to dump that out?” Stiles asks from his horizontal position on the couch. “There’s only a little bit left! Just let me finish it! I can’t go anywhere so you might as well let me drink something!” he pleads with puppy dog eyes.

Derek gives Stiles a stern look as he empties the contents of the glass down the sink.

“You really are a buzzkill, you know that?” Stiles sulks.

“Am not.”

“Are too... Buzz Killington.”

“I’m not going to argue you over this.”

“Yeah because you know I’m right,” Stiles eggs him on further.

“You’re not, Stiles.”

“Prove it!” he gloats. “If you think you’re ‘very fun’,” Stiles air quotes Derek’s earlier words. “Prove me wrong!”

“And how do you propose I do that?” Derek snarks at him, not in the mood for Stiles’ games as he cleans up the bottles and cups strewn about his loft.

Stiles pauses for a moment to think before a lightbulb turns on in his head. “Hey, Derek?”

“What?”

“Truth or dare?”

“You can’t be serious,” Derek grunts, freezing in his tracks.

“Truth or dare?” Stiles repeats pushing himself up on his elbows.

“Stiles, I…”

“Killjoy,” he mocks. “Maybe more like a fun-sponge, just sucking the enjoyment out of every-”

“FINE,” Derek huffs as he makes his way over to Stiles. “Dare, I guess.”

“That doesn’t sound very confident,” Stiles snickers.

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

“Okay, okay.” Stiles takes a moment to think of an appropriate dare. “Dance.”

“What? What kind of…”

“Unless you don’t want to,” Stiles shrugs. “You saw Scott earlier. Show me that you can dance,” Stiles grins mischievously as he finally sits up on the couch. “And make it _fun_.”

Derek clenches his fists nearly as hard as he clenches his jaw, glaring at Stiles under furrowed brow. “Music.”

“What?”

“Music. I need music if you expect me to be able to dance.”

Stiles fumbles with his phone as he opens his vast music library. “Any requests?”

“I don’t care. Anything with a beat.”

Music starts playing from Stiles’ phone as he sets it down on the table between him and Derek, the beat slowly building:

_~Fire up your loud_

_Another round of shots_

_Turn down for what~_

Derek taps his foot quietly as he gets used to the beat, the rest of his body remaining motionless as he closes his eyes.

“This isn’t supposed to be a tap routine,” Stiles rolls his eyes, growing impatient at Derek’s lack of movement. “Look, if you didn’t want to do this…”

Derek’s eyes spring open as he finds his rhythm and slides his feet across the floor towards Stiles.

“Whoa. The wolfman has moves!” Stiles cheers loudly as he watches Derek’s legs and hips move seamlessly towards him. Stiles swallows nervously as Derek inches closer. “Umm…” Stiles gulps as Derek was now standing directly in front of him. Stiles eyes are focused on Derek’s gyrating hips, moving effortlessly to the music. His gaze slowly travels upwards to Derek’s hands which are sliding across his neck, his chest, his body, catching and lifting his shirt, his toned stomach peaking through. Stiles looks up at Derek’s face, eyes closed, lost in the music. “Consider me impressed,” Stiles commends Derek with a round of applause.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Derek winks as he widens his stance and straddles on either side of Stiles.

“WHOA. HOLD UP!” Stiles rears as far back against the couch as he can, his hands pushing against Derek’s hard thighs which are straining in his tight jeans, severely encroaching on Stiles’ personal space.

“You told me to dance like Scott did earlier. I’m just giving you what you wanted,” Derek hums as he continues to sway to the music over top of Stiles.

“Yeah…” Stiles huffs. “But… I…” he sputters, struggling to catch his breath and Derek presses closer. “Derek…”

Derek is up on the couch, his knees planted firmly on either side of Stiles, his body curving back and forth inches from Stiles’ face. “Isn’t this what you wanted? It’s pretty...fun,” Derek smirks.

“How… Where did you…” Stiles pants breathlessly, hypnotized by Derek’s moves.

Derek’s hand runs through the back of Stiles’ hair, gripping tightly and forcing his head back, front of Derek’s jeans pressing up against Stiles’ chest, clothed abdomen rubbing against his chin. Stiles stares up with wide eyes, trying to anticipate his next motion, sweat beading across Derek’s forehead and trickling down his neck. Derek pushes his weight forward against Stiles before opening his mouth again. “Truth or dare?” he asks.

“Oh, so _now_ you want to play?”

“Truth or dare, Stiles?” Derek repeats, pushing up against Stiles again, not breaking eye contact.

“Well, I’d be dumb to say truth given the whole werewolf heartbeat hearing thing…”

“You’re not supposed to lie. It’s called _truth_ for a reason.”

“Details, details,” Stiles waves his hand in the air.

Derek thrusts his weight forward again. “I still need an answer.”

“Yeah? And I still need a drink.”

“Truth or dare?” Derek persists with another push of his body.

“Dare,” Stiles reluctantly gives his choice.

A dastardly smile appears on Derek’s face as he finally puts some space between him and Stiles. Stiles adjusts his dishevelled clothes as he watches Derek return with a bottle of tequila in one hand and a slice of lime and a salt shaker in the other. Stiles eyes them suspiciously before looking up at Derek.

“So... Am I getting that drink?” Stiles asks with hesitation.

“You could say that,” Derek grins. He grips the bottom of his shirt, quickly removing it off over his head.

“What!? What are you doing?”

“Your dare,” he replies, as he lays down on the table shirtless.

“Uhhhh…?”

“Do a body shot off of someone. Your choice.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“If you want another drink, this is the only way you’re getting it,” Derek says before putting the lime slice in his mouth.

Stiles hesitates again, his heart pounding in chest. Derek was grinding up him less than a minute ago and now he’s shirtless on the table, daring Stiles to do a body shot off of him. Stiles holds the salt shaker in one hand looks at Derek before proceeding. “Are you _sure_  about this?” Derek simply nods, lime still in his mouth.

Stiles sprinkles the salt in the valley between Derek’s chest muscles, grains either sticking to the light sheen of sweat or bouncing errantly onto his torso. He unscrews the lid on the Jose Cuervo, holding the bottle in his hands as he positions himself over Derek, straddling his thighs. He lowers the bottle over Derek’s abs carefully pouring tequila onto Derek’s body. Derek’s muscles tense up as the tequila splashes down but he soon relaxes as it pools over his belly button.

Stiles exhales, calming his nerves before he starts the process, Derek’s eyes watching his every move. He leans up over Derek’s torso, mouth running along his chest, salt coating his tongue. He bends back, eagerly slurping the liquor from between Derek’s abs licking up every last drop before crawling up to Derek’s mouth to receive the lime being held between his teeth. They make eye contact as Stiles bites into the flesh of the lime, his lips barely grazing against Derek’s during the mouth-to-mouth transfer. Stiles sits back on Derek’s legs, squeezing the juice out of the lime, swallowing everything down before dropping the green rind to the floor. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, licking his lips with satisfaction.

“Oh man, that was tasty,” Stiles hums as the alcohol warms him from the inside out. “You… maybe you should try it?” Stiles nervously suggests with a playful tone to his voice.

Derek’s face lights up. “You think I’d like it?”

“Yeah… I do,” Stiles smirks.

“Is that a dare?” Derek teases.

“Yeah... It is,” Stiles taunts back.

Derek slides his legs out from under Stiles and grabs a bottle of the werewolf prepared liquor along with another lime slice. He returns to the table to find Stiles laying down, all but one button undone in the middle of his shirt.

“You missed one,” Derek points out as he reaches down and pops the button with a single finger, his hand grazing against Stiles’ stomach as he spreads his shirt open, the moonlight cascading through the window, shining across Stiles’ pale skin.

“Thanks,” Stiles says nervously as Derek pops the lime wedge into Stiles' mouth, Stiles chomping down on it.

“Hey, hey. Not so hard. You’re letting the juice out,” Derek points out as lime runs down the side of Stiles’ cheek. Derek runs his hand along Stiles’ face, wiping up the trail of juice and licking it off his finger. “Ready?” Derek asks smelling a combination of apprehension and trepidation in the air around them.

Unexpectedly to Stiles, Derek bends down and runs his tongue along Stiles’ collarbone causing him to spit out the lime. “What are you doing?! You haven’t even set everything up yet!” he exclaims, holding the fruit in his hands.

“Salt sticks better to a moist surface,” Derek answers as he grabs the salt shaker adjacent to them. “I know what I’m doing,” he says sprinkling salt along Stiles’ wet skin as he guides the lime back into Stiles mouth.

Derek unscrews the lid on the bottle of liquor and pours it over Stiles’ abdomen. Stiles yelps as it splashes onto his body, mouth still stuffed with the tart green fruit.

Derek puts the bottle down and positions himself, his muscular build dwarfing Stiles as he lay on the table beneath him. Derek is still shirtless, his body emanating a light sheen of sweat from his earlier dance for Stiles, who is perfectly still under Derek. His hands are firmly against his sides as he tries to control his breathing to keep the alcohol pooled on his body. “Relax,” Derek whispers calmly into Stiles’ ear. “It’ll be fun…” he hums, breath hot against Stiles’ skin.

Derek pulls Stiles’ shirt collar back as his tongue glides across the salt on his collar bone, Stiles inhaling sharply as Derek’s tongue travels over his body. Derek rears back, positioning his mouth at the top of Stiles’ waistband as he laps up the liquor from Stiles’ body, Stiles fidgeting underneath him with each movement.

The lime was last, still presented in Stiles’ mouth waiting for Derek to receive it. Derek flashes a toothy grin as his mouth latches onto the lime, their lips once again pressing together in the transfer. He quickly sucks it dry, swallows, and spits it aside all the while still looming over Stiles. He runs a finger along Stiles' collarbone, picking up the remnants left behind. “Missed a bit,” he says looking at his salt coated finger. Stiles grabs Derek’s hand and guides his finger into his mouth, sucking the salt off of it, not breaking eye contact with Derek as he licks it clean. Stiles grabs the nearby liquor bottle, taking a quick swig, before Derek’s mouth seals over his, tasting the salt and liquor from Stiles’ lips. Their tongues explore each other’s mouths as they lay on top of the table.

“I like this game,” Stiles sputters between kisses, their sweat-ridden foreheads pressed together. “It’s...fun,” he grins.

“I told you I was fun,” Derek teases, brushing his lips playfully against Stiles’ face and jawline.

Stiles tilts his head back, exposing his neck to Derek. Derek growls playfully as he nips and bites the soft skin down Stiles’ neck towards his collarbone, air hissing out between Stiles’ teeth with each nibble. Stiles’ hands grip firmly onto Derek’s hair as he moves further down Stiles’ torso, tongue running over the sticky skin from the earlier shot, his lips not leaving Stiles’ body as he continues his oral exploration. Derek hooks his fingers into the waistband of Stiles’ boxers, folding it back. “Derek…” Stiles pants his name. “What are you…” Stiles is cut off as a groan slides past his lips as Derek’s tongue snakes down the trail of hair leading from his bellybutton and vanishing below his pants.

“Should I keep going?” Derek asks looking up at Stiles.

Stiles gasps for breath, his cheeks flushed and glowing red as he props himself up on his elbows looking down his body at Derek. “I dare you.”

Derek pops the button on Stiles’ jeans, unzipping them slowly and patiently, tormenting Stiles with each slow movement. Derek leisurely tugs down Stiles’ jeans and boxers together, planting a kiss on each new piece of exposed skin. Derek can smell the arousal emitting from Stiles as he breathes deeply through his nose, letting Stiles' scent slowly out through his mouth. Derek revels as he watches Stiles' writhe around under him with every breath, kiss, lick, and touch moving closer to his swelling erogenous zone.

With one final pull, Derek pulls down Stiles’ underwear releasing his swollen cock, making an audible thwap as it slaps against his abdomen, leaving sticky precome in Stiles' happy trail. Playfully, Derek lightly runs his fingers down the length of it, watching Stiles squirm under his touch.

“Truth or dare?” Derek asks as he slowly rubs Stiles’ stiff member in his hand.

“Ahh…” Stiles moans as he tightens his grip on the sides of the table, trying his best to control his raging hormones.

“Truth or dare, Stiles?” Derek presses for an answer, continuing to taunt Stiles.

“Now would be a bad time…Aah!” he hollers as Derek jerks him off.  “...To say truth, right?” Stiles pants between Derek’s torturous strokes.

Derek squeezes the base of Stiles’ cock as blood swells to the head. “You can say truth if you want…” Derek pauses as he leans in. “But then…” Derek’s tongue slides out of his mouth and along the underside of Stiles’ erection. “You won’t get to feel this,” he teases as he flicks his tongue out again.

Stiles whimpers and shudders with each lick as Derek persists for a decision. “D...dare!” he finally coughs out.

“I dare you…” he licks. “...To let me…” Derek licks again. “...get you off.”

“Mmm! Mmmhmm!” he furiously hums in approval dropping his head back down as Derek swirls Stiles’ cock into his mouth, past his lips, and around his tongue. “Oh god, Der...Derek!” Stiles cries out as he lets Derek take control.

Derek pumps his hand and mouth in synch around Stiles’ throbbing erection, Stiles yelping with each pump of Derek’s fist down the length of his shaft.

“De...Derek slow… unh. S...slow down,” Stiles musters out words between intermittent moans and groans. “You’re...ah! You’re gonna make me come.”

Derek's mouth pops off Stiles' dick as he keeps stroking at the same pace. "That's the dare..." he smiles as his lips surround Stiles' cock again.

Stiles pants relentlessly as he inches closer and closer to orgasm. "De… Der... Hnn! Derek! I'm coming!"

Derek opens his mouth over Stiles' cock, jerking Stiles as he starts shooting come, splashing through the air on to Derek's tongues and lips, catching on the stubble around his mouth.

Sweat beads down Stiles' temples, his usually erratic hair matted down against his skin as he glances down at Derek who is still holding his softening member in his hand, wiping his lips clean of saliva and come with his other hand. Stiles motions with his head, beckoning Derek up to him. Derek drapes his body over Stiles, tucking his face into the nook of Stiles' neck, gently and playfully kissing and licking behind Stiles' ear.

Stiles lightly drags his fingers up and down the length of Derek's back, intimately tracing over the Triskele and through the valley of his spine between his broad lat muscles.

"Hey Derek..."

"Yeah?" he warmly breathes into Stiles' ear, sending shivers through him.

Stiles' hand settles at the small of Derek's back at the top of his jeans. "Truth or dare...?"

They sit in silence for a few seconds, Stiles’ hand still brushing back and forth over Derek's tailbone before he answers. "Truth."

Stiles' hand stops. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I pick truth."

A still naked Stiles rolls over with Derek and sits firmly on his bulging lap. “Truth? You’re _sure_ about that?” he grins grinding his hips slightly against Derek.

"Truth," Derek repeats adamantly.

Stiles sighs as he goes still trying to get a read on Derek’s emotionless face. Stiles looks up at the ceiling, deep in thought while Derek's hands find a home on Stiles' thighs. He opens his mouth and inhales as he starts to speak but closes it as he once again thinks about his question.

"I'm waiting," Derek sings as he continues to rub Stiles' legs.

Stiles hands fall on top of Derek's as he looks intently into Derek's eyes. "Were you holding onto my keys as an excuse for me to stay the night?"

Derek pauses before he answers. "Huh. That'd be pretty smart of me, don't you think?"

"Well... I guess? I mean it sounds like something I would have done. It's a passive way to allow me to make the decision to stay where my Jeep is when it's really you holding on to my keys making the decision for me to stay here. And you're also keeping me safe from doing something stupid and drunk somewhere else..."

Derek smiles as he sits up to face Stiles before he continues to ramble. "...and by staying over without everyone else drunk and passed out, it's an opportunity for you to talk to me one on one since you won't say anything to me in front of the pack, but I notice the looks you give me. And the alcohol probably helped provide some extra incentive since..."

Derek cuts Stiles incessant blathering off with a kiss planted firmly on his lips. "See? Telling the truth isn't that hard. Your heartbeat was perfectly calm."

"You were listening to it?!"

"After what you said earlier about lying during this game, yeah. But I got you to speak the truth," Derek winks.

"But that was your...! You turned it around me, you clever bastard!" Stiles exclaims as he returns the kiss to Derek, gripping his hands along Derek's jawline as he is enveloped in Derek's arms. “Now! My _actual_  turn!" Stiles says as their foreheads and noses press together in their embrace.

Derek grins as the game continues. “Truth or dar-”

“-ek,” Stiles blurts out, finishing Derek’s sentence for him.

The edges of Derek’s mouth turn up slightly at Stiles’ interruption. “Okay... Truth or Derek?” he repeats his question with a smile on his face.

“Derek. I choose Derek.”

“How do we play this game?” Derek asks coyly.

A warm smile spreads across Stiles' face as he looks at Derek with soft eyes. “I think we already are." 


End file.
